Best Discomfort Poems
hanging in the air
humidity’s heaviness . . .
the river’s slow crawl
On the Mississippi lies the beautiful little city where I once lived. How many times I trudged up inclined streets; or leaning forward, red-faced and panting, pressed up slopes with all my might, feet on pedals of my purple Sting-ray bike, urging myself not to dismount prior to reaching glorious level ground! The damp beneath my clothing in those days was a given. Simply stopped to rest. . . sipping pop underneath a tree, I would often feel rivulets of sweat that trickled down beneath my underarms, a surfeit which caused circle stains to appear beneath the arms of short-sleeved shirts or on Sundays, beneath the flowered dresses that I wore to church. However, despite the heat’s discomfort, it was summer, after all!
counting down the days
until the school bell’s last ring -
a fling with summer
Released from stifling classrooms for vacation, I eagerly embraced the sun. . .and how I played! Kickball with the neighbors, visits to the city pool with my sisters and friends, bike rides to parks or into town, where I spent my allowance on records and treats, and hours racing eagerly through the pages of Nancy Drew books in front of a cooling fan - all these things consumed me.
It was in the month of August, and more than a decade of muggy summers later that I found myself transplanted in a desert. As if thrust into a giant pre-set oven with a noose about my neck, I learned firsthand the meaning of “slow roast.” Here, in the new and different place where I've now lived most of my adult life, the heat can leave one with a burn like acid watered down, a deep sensation lingering in skin long after sun has left the sky. Perspiration may just evaporate before it has a chance to wend its way along the body’s contours. Discomfort notwithstanding, there’s no pain. Acclimated to these summers now, I find that it is easier for me to breathe in August heat than it was the first time I’d ever encountered it. Released from stifling work, I go outside into the oven, pen in suntanned hand!
sunshine reflections
so many summers have passed
writing till twilight
A question set up,
To cause discomfort and pain,
Anonymously.
Does everybody feel the same as I do?
Lost? Adrift? Disconnected? Confused?
Does anyone know how to ease the hurt of truth
For the accuser, as well as the accused?
I've heard there's bliss
Found somewhere in ignorance
For those who have been stripped
Of their already fleeting innocence
So I continue to move through this life
Practiced smile, that doesn't quite reach my eyes
Which instead reflect the emptiness
That fills me up inside
It hurts to feel so alone and uncertain
Consumed by doubt and fear
Eventually life becomes a burden
Damaged beyond all repair
The temptation to numb all sensation
It more powerful than one might believe
I'll sacrifice the pleasure, to relieve the devastation
As passion gives way to apathy
Say whatever you want
About those who dwell on the past
Go ahead and judge me from your moral soapbox
While you cower behind your mask
The opinions of most matter very little to me
It won't be taken to heart as you intend it to be
First you'd have to practice the words you preach
If you ever do then I promise I'll start listening
I can’t stay clear of you
Everyday meet we must
There is nothing I can do
To avoid you
Yet you treat me like a piece of
You are so full of misery
Wish I could avoid you
Now I must make that discovery
On how to make do with you
You are wicked
Very croaked
And fearless
You treat us badly and take us forcefully
Without listening to our pleas.
Today I’ve come to challenge you
Show your face
You faceless devil
Battle with all you have
And watch prayers wash you down.
Naturally caring to women with masculinity so pristine
I own the road, yet they squeeze through the bridle path
I have found my peace but nature envies me,
allowing God’s craft to be an inevitable punishment.
No honeycomb is invisible to admirers
his love for me comes with such consequences.
‘I love you’ from me, but one out of a thousand more confessions.
He has completely pledged to me, yet I suffer rough justice
they display so much submission like a script from voo-doo.
On women, his charisma plays a successful ponzi scheme,
geometrically, they increase, I fear and pray for a flatline,
these numerous uncontrolled love is an insidious problem
I have barked but to remain more toothless.
Three is a crowd but a hundred is infirmity
hope is the fuel to patience, my engine
I’ll hold his hand tightly to resist theirs stepwise.
Hand on the leather,
I held on for the bell,
Sure it was a winner.
I was riding so well,
But then the bull threw me;
Introduced me to the dirt.
Hell, I only broke my shoulder, mama,
How bad can it hurt?
No, I’m not sleeping.
I’m just resting my eyes.
Got that last nail hammered
Though it took me twelve tries.
It took me one dozen
‘cause I wasn’t too alert.
But I still got one good thumb, so mama,
How bad can it hurt?
Pass me the garlic salt,
The horseradish, too.
Need more habañero
In this hot pepper stew.
I’ll have the rock candy
Flaming brandy for dessert.
Don’t you worry ‘bout my ulcer, mama,
How bad can it hurt?
Walked into The Penny,
I was feelin’ all right.
Hadn’t drunk my first
Before I got in a fight.
I caught the backcountry
Sucker punch he slyly threw.
I only let him punch me once, and mama,
That didn’t hurt, too.
I know a woman
Who’s at war with the world.
Tell her that she’s cute,
It’s like the gauntlet’s been hurled.
She uses brass knuckles,
Straps, and buckles when she flirts.
Likes to kick me when I’m down, but mama,
How bad can it hurt?
Paint me a picture, darlin’,
Show me a sign.
Are ya really leavin’ me,
Or are ya still mine?
Ya got some hot bacon
Shakin’ underneath your skirt.
I’m gonna miss you when you go, but mama,
How bad can it hurt?
A REVELATION
*************
A revelation, no matter gender,
pulchritude, humans natural beauty!
A Paragon of virtuosity!
Talks and walks with splendour, no pretender!
Causing no discomfort, one to adore!
Such charisma, one would hope they had too,
showing, blazing, hoping it is all true!
Eight below, charisma helps warm a core!
************
7/4/18
Rhyme Time 5- Lucky 8 Poetry Contest, sponsored by Laura Loo
I'd like to walk across the water.
I'd like to walk across the sea.
I'd like to save your sons and daughters.
I'd like to bring them all home to me.
I'd like to raise up all your fore fathers.
I'd like to bring the world to love and peace.
But I'm not what you want me to be.
no I'm not what you want me to be.
I'd like to bring you joy magically,
and I'd like to make your dreams reality.
I'd like to heal the lamb and make the blind man see.
But I'm not what you want me to be.
no I'm not what you want me to be.
I'd try,but I'd spend eternity
So I close my eyes and set you free.
You fly, don't look back and think of me
your not what I want you to be.
No your not what I want you to be.
I had to ask for your affection.
The first indication that you weren’t worthy of mine.
Love is meant to be easy.
At least, when it’s with the correct person.
Loving you was shifting teeth,
Picking at hangnails,
An off-kilter set to the jaw.
Loving you was uncomfortable.
Not unpleasant, but something deep within me knew it wasn’t right.
We were building a world on an unsteady foundation.
Forming skyscrapers on decaying bedrock.
They were decadent.
But fated to collapse.
Quite the parallel to their builders.
Arid-tanned leaves,
vigorously stripped
from their cages by
thick cold winds,
luring them to dance
like elegant swans,
swaying dangerously
naked to speeding
express, testing their fate.
I hear the roars and
dark clouds
setting up the stage.
You only hear nature's
voice through our pen.
Their pain, happiness,
memories and laughter.
our
favourite lover.
They preserve us,
and in turn,
we become their sip,
they eat
in nourishment.
In the end,
we all come back as Nature.
I'm agree with discomfort but I makes remain yours.
I will meet you or not,but I remain in your heart.
I'm agree with discomfort but I makes remain yours.
My love is like silence but it is pure like God.
Meeting you in this life is pleasing to me.
I'm agree with heartache but I makes remain yours.
I will meet you or not,but I remain in your heart.
I'm agree with discomfort but I makes remain yours.
What a day! It’s pouring so hard . . .
I’d to go to the airport to pick up somebody
a wet day! ‘un día mojado’, such a day, indeed!
but, I’d to go for he must have arrived already.
When I got there passengers in drove were elsewhere,
cabs, vans, trucks, and many cars were waiting;
while waiting outside, a sheriff came telling us to move on
that made me decide to make another round and see
if he’d be when I come back to pick him up.
However, he hadn’t emerged as yet and therefore,
I decided to take another round and park the car;
still pouring, oh Lord of the Most High!
I found it difficult to get back with certain roads closed
especially in Terminal A where I was heading for;
indeed, what a day! What a disaster! What a mess, so to say.
I felt so sorry for him for that long procession of waiting
Hours in waiting while struggling to find other ways
to meet him – his Excellency, whose eyes were whitened
waiting, waiting, what an annoying day!
then traffic congestion greeted us on our way,
another experience, another test of patience.
Her heart is a warm, golden light
Patience is her title
In a distressed nine months, she held onto me
Facing changes and discomfort in her body
At the edge of losing herself, she held on
Waiting patiently with love and care to see my face
She held me with joy, with tears in her eyes when she held me
Her breast was my comfort and my survival
Her breasts sagged, but she still fed me with love and joy
Ignoring the physical changes she had
My cries kept her awake
Her hands soothe me
Her voice brings me joy
Singing lullabies with her sweet voice with compassion to put me to sleep
Sleep was not hers when I was awake
She woke up several times to see if I was okay
My discomfort, her heartache
My smile, her joy
When I'm disheartened, she inspires me
Her tongue is full of encouragement
She holds me up with her tongue when I fall
Her words and prayers keep me going
What love I have got
This love, a great treasure I hold
A great gift God showered on me??
I love you, mama, ?
A-S B
I searched for pleasure and weakness was also there. I searched for discomfort and found strength.
When customer service forgets its name
and kindness dims to a fading flame ,
RESPECT grows thin and help grows small--
you start to wonder if they care at all…
She grew so harsh, as if kindness were a chore!
She pressed like a child, fierce in what she required,
never stopping to see how your body was tired.
She urged you to read - though the words turned to haze,
not caring your blurred eyes had reached their fading phase…
You try to rest inside that cramped small room ,
But comfort never seems to find its bloom.
No fan to stir the thick and weighted air ,
Just crowded bodies coughing everywhere…
You suffer through each careless, noisy burst
and peace , it seems , is always the one cursed.
And when all they care about is what they can gain,
not noticing your tired body or the strain,
it hits you somewhere deep, a quiet kind of sore…
some people put money first, nothing else anymore.
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